Gene writes: "Back in the 60's I had a 1964 Plymouth Max Wedge that I raced. I ran races in and around Wichita, KS. I had a friend that helped me work on my car, his name was Ted DeTar. Ted had a shop in Wichita and was famous around the Midwest for building and racing Mopars. He was killed in a track accident around the end of 60's. His son has put up a Web site about his dad and friends with old pictures of the real 60's Mopars!"

Hell's Hemi Building a model replica as a tribute to my Dad and his 1965 Belvedere.

EVTHEDODGEMAN writes: "In 1971 I built a 1963 Plymouth wagon, 361 four speed; it would beat any Chevy around. I later built a 1965 Plymouth wagon and after I got married, I spent all lots of time turning it into a pro streeter! The 1965 had a blown 440! The car was stolen in April 1991. I wish someone out there knew who took it! (Let me know!) I have been a Mopar man for over 30 years and will always drive Mopars."

Brad C. writes: "I went to Ferndale High School from 1963 to 1968 and would love to walk home past Hodges Dodges (on Woodward Avenue) and look at the drag cars they sponsored on the showroom floor when they weren't racing. I can't tell you the nose prints we left on the showroom glass! What a great time it was to be growing up in Detroit and living a few blocks from Woodward and 10 Mile Rd."

In 1964 I graduated from high school and wanted nothing but a Fury to drive. I could not afford a new one, but saved and watched for a used Fury to appear. One did! Bright red, 383 with a four speed! I had a friend drive me there with the down payment burning a hole in my hip pocket.
I arrived to see the Fury doing a burn out as it left the lot with it's new owner.
Ten years later, a man and I agreed on the purchase of his '64 Fury with 361 and four speed. I was to pick it up the next morning, but he called and said his wife would not let him sell their "first date car"!
I have had a burning desire to get my hands on one for 38 years and this week I found a 1964 Fury! Bright red, 361 with PB transmission and bought it for hardly nothing. (The seller did not know the MOPAR market, I guess.) The Fury runs strong and need cosmetics...and worth the WAIT! Jim (October 2, 2002)

Steve writes: I was just a kid, probably 13 at the most, when my big brother took me to the races at the Des Moines Dragway (long since gone).

Those a/fx Plymouths and Dodges left an impression on me that has lasted a lifetime: the sounds of those cars from Grand Spaulding and Martineau Motors in Cedar Falls, Iowa were awesome. Those were the two cars I remember the most, and I have forgotten more cars then I can remember!

But I will never forget the sounds of those Mopars going down the quarter mile! Nothing looks tougher my book than a '62 to '65 2 door sedan Mopar, with 14 inches of wrinkle wall under the fenders. A lasting impression, "INDEED" since I own one to this very day, with an ostrich built 440 (Gary Ostrich, an old s/s racer as was his dad if I remember right). (Does anybody else remember them or am I mistaken on that?)

A good dedicated MOPAR MAN just the same, and memories of those bygone days, are lodged in my head forever and ever. S/S Mopars are racers from their creation to this very day. Their owners may change, but bad to the bone just the same, some still record holders for 30 to 40 years.

And that is an awesome credit to Tom Hoover and the boys from the Factory that created these monsters. As I said, I was lucky enough to go and see and hear at a strip that has long since been a housing development. But I still know where Des Moines Dragway was and every time I go by the track, in my head I can still see and hear those Mopars, in spite of the structures occupying the long gone quarter mile strip.

Regarding the above, Larry writes: I am doing a history of the Des Moines Dragway. Ive been working on it a few years. Actually it hasnt been gone that long. The entire drag strip was there until 2000. Then the north part was dug up. The first eighth mile of the strip was there until June 2003. I went up in an airplane and took aerial pictures and pictures down on the ground. I am planning on doing a Web site about it eventually. I have pictures and video of Gary Ostrichs car at Des Moines Dragway. [Editors note: Larry tried to mail Steve this info but Stevves e-mail was in the shop.]

Jon writes: Long ago I built a 1961 Impala, 409, 4 speed, lots of goodies. After long months of problems, finally got the kinks out and started to bring home a trophy once in a while. Just as I started to feel really puffed up, I took the car to a
strip in south Texas and encountered a 1964 Dodge Coronet 440, with the striping I later learned to hate: One of the original Ramchargers, with an all out 426 hemi and the beefed torqueflite.

The cars were brand new then and none of us 'hot rodders' knew anything about them. I remember that first encounter best by the clear memory of what a Dodge looks
like from the back! You have to look fast though, because he's running away from you at a high Mach number. I pulled a 12.91 that day, one of my best efforts, and I wasn't even in the race.

Sold the Impala. Bought a Dodge. Ran it until 1989, and lost the bottom end of the motor.
I couldn't find an aftermarket source for a crank (that I could afford) and so I sold the car. Now they have aftermarket support available for the hemi and I cry a little every night!

If you have one of these monsters, protect it like your children. They're a national resource!

Jeremy writes: I am from southern Indiana and I -- along with my father and my uncle -- spent almost all of my life busting knuckles on early b-bodies.

It all started when my uncle got back from the war in 1970. He located a 1964 Plymouth 2 door Savoy that was a municipal fire department in our area. Thus the seed was planted for his younger brother, "my father" to follow in his footsteps. After the '64 car was done and ready for the track, my dad wanted in on the action.
Dad purchased a 1963 2 door Savoy Indiana State Police car from the back of an RV dealer's lot for $300.00. (Remember, this was the early 1970's.) Dad's car was a 383 button shift car, complete with spot lights and tow hitch! After a set of TRW pistons, Fireball cam and Keystones, it was go time.

The brothers ran the cars for several years at our local track up until dad married mom and the car was the first thing sold. After the Plymouth changed hands 3 or 4 times, a salvage yard ended up with it and the Mopar sat there for 18 or 20 years. Indiana winters are brutal on these cars.
Then I enter the picture growing up with the stories of the glory days of the hood flying up or the time points never being just right on both sides at the same time.

I was sold!

I went to the salvage yard to get that car back in our life. Sadly enough, the salvage yard owner considered dad's car, or at least what was left of it, as a prime piece of property! The motor was gone and the body was trash. The only thing left to identify the car was the Keith Black sticker on the back window. The salvage yard owner had routinely filled the Plymouth's trunk with feed and let the horses he had eat out of the Mopar. [editor's note: now THAT's a new twist on Mopar horsepower!]

Seven years later -- after a long and cruel journey of calls to people with crazy ideas of fixing this one up "someday" or the ever popular, "do you know how much a car like that is worth?" or opening a hood on a $6000.00 poly 318 car and seeing the hood just buckle in the middle from rust abuse -- I hit pay dirt.

Now I am the owner of what I consider one of the last, solid -- and I mean solid from the trunk to the grille -- (affordable) '63 post cars left. It has 3:91 gears, a '67 440, push button and all kinds of other goodies!

Dad couldn't be more proud. Stay tuned for some pictures.

1964 Plymouth BelvedereBack in about 1981 or 1982 my brother was working in the local speed shop. The owner's brother had a 1964 Fury. The Fury had a 426 Max wedge and the owner always said it was an original but I'm not sure if it was.

Anyway, one day an old feller walks in and asks "who owns the Fury?" He must have been 70 something. My brother says "Why, are you interested? It's for sale."

The older gent says "Na, I got one just like it."

Well, ding ding, you know, bells start going off in my brother's head and he asks "what is it exactly?"

The old guy says "Why don't you come over and see it, I want to get rid of it."

Well! We hustle over there that night and there it is: an all original, never modified 1964 Belvedere 426/365HP street wedge. The Plymouth had chrome air cleaner, chrome valve covers, mechanical tach drive dual point distributor, long original chrome 4 speed Hurst shifter and a little hood emblem that read 426. WOW!

Only thing that wasn't so cool was the car had a lot of rust. I'm now kinda going nuts because I know its a pretty rare piece, but I have never really seen anything quite like it because it pre-dates me by a bit.

(You see, my other car is a 1969 Roadrunner and I was only 12 when that was built. I missed the real 69-70 muscle car era by a couple of years.)

Anyway, we ask this guy "how much do you want?" He stands there for a minute or two and he looks like he's thinking real hard and all of a sudden he says how about $50 bucks.

Well, holy !#!* -- I almost passed out at that point. $50 bucks, may lightning strike me if I'm BSing!

We pay him the $50 real quick and drive the sucker home! We couldn't believe our find.

When we got it home we had to clean tons of junk out of the trunk: rusted bolts, nuts, washers and all kinds of crud. It was so bad that at one point I just went and got a shovel and was digging the stuff out!

I even found something in there that looked like some kind of small ordinance, so we brought to the local Police Department. The desk Loutenant went nuts, started running around getting bomb blankets and notifying the bomb squad!

Paul, my brother, and I gave the Fury a good tune up, did the brakes and replaced the syncros in the tranny. We drove her for the next year or so and had all kinds of fun with her. The car was really cool because it didn't look like anything special or anything, having steel wheels and lots of rust, but man could she run, even with over 100,000 miles on the clock!

At the same time when we were driving the Bel. I had a 1979 Trans Am that ran pretty well; (yuk, I know a Pontiac, but it was the only thing you could get back then with 400+ cubes).
With a couple of modifications the smoger would run 14.50s-14.70s on a cool night.

The Belvedere with over 100,000 miles and rust everywhere would up and run away from the TA like it was running on 4 cyls!

After owning the Plymouth for about a year we decided we had to sell her. Paul and I were redoing the '69 Roadrunner and we just didn't have the time, money or space (mostly money) to redo a seconf car. Besides the '64 had so much rust I was afraid we would need 2 or 3 more parts cars to save her. At one point my brother said why don't we just keep the motor, but even back then I knew we shouldn't do that to a car that was pretty rare. And I just didn't have the heart to break her up. So with much regret we sold her for$1000 Bucks.

I hope she found a good home! To this day I still miss that old '64 Plymouth. Every time I see one of those old Belvederes, Furys, or Savoys I look to see if it has that magical little hood emblem with those 3 magical little numbers: 426.
MOPARS FOREVER! Greg Z.

Broken Hearted Ram Owner
Back around 68 or 69, I traded a Honda motorcycle and a small cash "boot" to a friend for a 1963 Plymouth Ramcharger. It was not original, but was a Belvedere, that had been a former Indiana highway patrol car with a 383. A local body guy had found a wrecked Ramcharger car and swapped in all the driveline parts. It had the header / collectors coming out under the doors, 4.56 Dana 60 rearend, and manual shift torqueflite. It was the short-ram 425 horse engine, with some kind of Racer Brown solid lifter cam. This is what I was told by the guy who did the swap.

In the couple of years I had it,I guess it gave me more thrills than any other car I've ever had. By the way, this was a street driver. It was painted a pale green with black top; the cops never gave me a second look. I was never beaten in a street race, and I raced a 435 hp Vette, on down. It was coooool to cruise off from a light just at light/normal throttle, punch 2nd gear and squeal the tires, go a little more and hit 3rd and chirp them again. Awesome.

It was not perfect however. It got 6-7 miles per gallon on 260 Sunoco. The valves needed to be adjusted every couple of weeks. And that was a major undertaking, since the engine sat off to the right a bit. The right header had to be removed to get the valve cover off. For the same reason, changing spark plugs on the right side was a chore. You had to use a combination of wrenches to get to them, and clearance was at a premium. I have the burn scars to prove it. Every now and then, for some reason, one of the sets of points would go dry, and wear down the rubbing block; and it would quit. I have never had any other vehicle that was so sensitive to lubing the distributor shaft lobes. And, it was very hard to start in cool/cold weather. I was thanking God many times that we lived on a hill.....that my wife and I could push it to get it rolling and put it in gear and it eventually would fire off. I remember how she used to gripe about breaking fingernails on the pushbuttons. Man, how wonderful life used to be.

I used to have so much fun getting on this monster at different opportunities.
There was a very steep hill, not far outside the town we lived in, that had a sharp curve at the bottom, a steep dropoff on the left, and a hillside on the right. One day I was driving up the road, and approached the curve, and just got the thought that "I wonder if I can smoke the tires all the way up that hill?" This was a hill about a 1/8 mile long. I rounded the curve, slowed to about 20, hit 1st gear and nailed it!

The car took off in a cloud of smoke and started going sideways....when the driver's seatback broke! Immediately, I'm going sideways up a hill, with a big dropoff on my left......and staring at the headliner!! I guess instinct made me steer the car in the right direction. As I pulled myself up, it was straightening out and still on the road. Unfortunately, I didn't find out at the time if I could smoke the tires to the top of the hill...later.

I've missed that car. Many years have gone by, but a single month has not passed when I have not kicked myself heartily for selling it. If I should ever get in a position to buy the car of my dreams, I would be hard pressed to choose something different than that Ramcharger. I've had some good cars, some classic cars, and some fast cars.....the Ramcharger was all of the above. Just something to cherish in my memory.....it's a Ramcharger thing....... you may not understand! Dale F.

JBPandGWP writes:
I enjoy this Web site! I've been a Mopar fan since the early 60's. I can remember when seeing those candy striped Candy - Matics and many others in the Drag mags as an everyday thing. I really miss those days, the fierce competition and the awesome advancements in drag racing. I consider the 60's decade as the "Golden Age" of drag racing. Those of us who were there are indeed lucky to have known the best years of the sport.

Pete Farris writes: I was sitting in my living room watching Popular Hot Rodding this morning when an old memory popped up in my brain.

In 1964 I was a junior in high school in Newark Ca. and very interested in drag racing, when one Sunday morning I went into town (Newark wasn't big); anyway I went into town to see a friend my who was working at a gas station on Thorton Boulevard, (the Main Street of Newark).

While standing talking with my friend, Dick Landy pulled into the gas station driving the flat bed truck with the A/FX Dodge on the back. Dick got out of the truck and asked me for directions to Fremont Drag Strip. Of course I wanted to get in the truck and show him how to get there! Well after this green horned high kid got done wetting his pants, I told him how to get to Fremont Drag Strip.

Landy came across the Dumbarton Bridge from Hwy 101 through Newark to pick up Hwy 17 south to where the old strip was located, across the highway from the GM Plant. Of course, I went to the drags that weekend and drooled all over the his Dodge A/FX. Since that day I always admired Dick Landy, always thought he was the Best Drag Racer ever, and when I heard his name I would stop and listen, then say how I showed him how to get to Fremont Drag Strip.

I'm 57 now and live just outside Springfield, Mo. and if Dick Landy came to town today I would be the first in line to see him. And like so many others I said he always had the very first FUNNY CAR. Thanks Dick.

I inherited a 1963 Sport Fury from my father, who always liked a car that
could move. He traded in a 1956 Chrysler New Yorker for the Plymouth in
1963. We lived in Newport News, Virginia, and in 1964 I went off the the
University of Virginia in Charlottesville. Beginning with my third year,
Dad let me take the Plymouth to school as my car. When I graduated in
1968, he gave me the title.

The car was white with a red interior. I always thought it looked
sharp with the burnished metal side strips and the red, white and blue
chevrons on the sides of the roof. It had the Golden Commando 383 with the
dual point distributor for extra spark. When you floored it at highway
speeds, that Torqueflite transmission would downshift to second, or,
depending on your speed at the time, perhaps all the way to first. The
engine didn't so much roar as wail as that big four-barrel carburetor did
its job, and it slammed you back into the seat.

I always wondered what the top end would have been had it not been
geared so strongly for acceleration. As it was, it would pretty much jump
to seventy or so, then move steadily without fuss up the dial past the 120
mark to an estimated 130, where it peaked. I remember it running at about
90 for mile after mile along I-80 through Nebraska without the least
strain.

It was a great car.

Still, my fondest memories have little to do with performance. Those
wonderful Chrysler engineers gave us two bucket seats in front with a
nice, flat-topped console, just at or below the level of the two seats
beside it. Those were the days when guys like to find a secluded spot to
park with their girl. With experimentation, I found that a folded car
blanket atop the console made it quite comfortable for the two of us to
sit together. Ah, Pam!

I kept the Plymouth until 1976, by then, with over 140,000 miles, it was
in rough shape, and I finally sold it. Many times since I have wished I
had kept and restored it.
- Terry Grinnalds
Yorktown, VA

What pulled me into this Web site was that I was checking around for any info on the Dodge 880's. A 4-door white 1962 Dodge 880 w/red interior was my first car (way back in 1974!). The dodge was my family's daily driver and when Dad got a new car, I inherited the 880. I was the most popular guy at my high school....due to the cavernous back seat! It wasn't 'til recently that I discovered how rare the car was. Alas, if I only had foresight back then!

I traded the car in to a dealer in southern New Jersey and purchased a new one (not even for a Dodge!). A few weeks later, I was visiting my parents in Pennsylvania, and my younger brother come into the house and asked me when did I got the Dodge back. Asking what he was talking about, he told me that my car (the 880) was parked outside! Upon inspection, sure enough, it was the 880! A friend of a neighbor had recently purchased it and was visiting them.

How did I know it was THE car?

My father, when he owned it, did repair work on the trim. A chrome strip ran down the sides of the car front-to-back. In the trunk area on the passenger's side, a clip holding it on broke. His repair...a sheet metal screw thru the trim and into the body! Sure enough, there was that ghastly sheet screw!

Another highlight! While I had owned it, the Dodge had been stolen. It was shortly recovered, an apparent joyride, no damage. About a year after I traded it in, I was contacted by the police department from the city in which it had been taken. Seems they had a guy in custody who was stopped driving it, and the VIN # came up stolen! Seems they never took the car out of the system after I recovered it! This poor soul was at the police station for 8 hours while they tracked me (now living in
another state) down! That was my last contact with the car.

One again, thanks for the memories and all your hard work and allowing me a few moments to wax nostalgic.
- William J. Wray

In 1973 my brother and I were G. M. fans, he had a 1964 Chevy with a 396 and I had a 1963 Pontiac with a 389 3x2. Early one morning when I came home on leave, it was about two am I was awakened by my brother. He said "you have to take a ride in my car." I told him I had a million times and to go away.

He said with a sheepish grin....not this car.

I went outside to see a black 1962 Plymouth and under the hood was a 440 six pack. Well.....I have to say that one ride down the road was all it took. I said "where can I get one of these?"

I have been a Mopar fan ever since and have had and still have Mopars.
- Michael A.

My Most Memorable Ride

Thinking back on all the cars I've owned, I guess my favorite
would have to be my 1965 Dodge Coronet wagon. I found it
through a want ad I saw while looking for a replacement for my
'70 Cadillac. The ad said that it had a 383 4bbl and factory air, so I
had to take a look.

So I grabbed a friend, the better to get an objective opinion, and
headed out to see what the thing looked like. My first impression
was of a white station wagon, with tinted glass, full wheel covers,
and dual exhaust. I looked inside and noticed it had a blue
interior (is there a law that mandates a white car must have a blue
interior?), and had AC outlets but was otherwise unremarkable, so I
crawled underneath to check on rust. When I saw that it had
glasspacks, I told my buddy "Well, this thing's sold!"

After talking with the owner and doing the normal road test, we
made the deal and I took her home. That Dodge had the greatest set
of pipes; I don't remember a sweeter tone. I drove that thing
everywhere; not realizing it probably didn't get 15 mpg.
It was a pooch coming off the line, but it sounded good
doing it.

After a year or so of putting up with a burned valve, I pulled the
heads and started doing a valve job. Started, because I took some
bad advice about how to knurl the guides, and ended up taking
them to machinist Gary Ostrich. After I got them back I did a
very mild porting job on them, mostly just matching the gaskets,
and I put it back together with a factory high rise intake and a new
timing chain and gears.

Unfortunately, a few months after the valve job she started
pumping oil. Then the transmission started leaking, so I had to
make the tough decision to send her down the road.

I enjoyed the time I had her, and hope that someday I can find
another car like her.
- Mark

A few years past the time frame of this site, (Landy did drive '64 and '65 Dodges), but a note on the "Dandy
One", Dick Landy and his never say "no" attitude to a fellow Mopar owner.

Mr. Landy has helped me several times in the past. a.) Dick Landy is a good man to have on your side if you have or like
Mopars, I bought a new 1969-1/2 6 pack, went 4 miles from the dealership - Dodge City/Denver - and the rearend burned up. This was one of two of these model cars in a five state area at the time. The dealership had no parts and I was told it would take 4-6 weeks to get repaired. I was beside myself and went into the parts dept. and was raising heck when Mr. Landy walked in. He asked what was wrong and then asked the new car manager "why not pull the rearend assembly out of the other car" (no.#2 car). I
had the car the next morning and stayed for the Performance School. b.) At 1,200 miles the convertor went bye bye, I talked to Dick, he called my dealership and they replaced it with a Hemi convertor - N/C. I saw Dick when he was racing here and was having problems with the starter, the dealership won't replace it because of the headers, Dick called them and they gave me a heavy duty unit N/C if I did the work.

I talked to him several years ago at the Great Salt Flats race, he had the flathead flyer there, we are all older but he hasn't changed after all the years, still a great guy and fun to talk to.
- Barry Conner

I drove a 1963 Plymouth Fury with a push button trans, 383 c.i. and a 4 barrel carb. It never lost a drag from a red light nor helped me talk myself out of a ticket :{)
Nice to see '63's brought back into sight.
- Vic

I had a 1965 Dodge Coronet Sedan Full race from the factory. When I registered the car on the Pink it said "Dragster".
On the steering column was PRN12D. The side windows were Plexiglas and it had a rollbar. It came factory with no radio or heater.
It was built to satisfy Nascar rules at the time. It weighed 3240 lbs. It had a Hemi w/ 456 Posi-rearend. It had only two headlights instead of four. The battery was in the trunk. Above the rear end third member was a half a leaf-spring. It had two bucket seats w/ no back seat.

- Dan

Around Christmas of 1965 my parents went out car shopping to buy my mom
her first new car after 25 years of marrige and six kids. I had just
turned 15 but was already a car nut, thanks to my brother nine years my
senior, who had already driven me around town in a long succession of 34
and 40 Fords with Olds and Caddy engines.

I expected the folks would bring home a Chevy or Ford station wagon so I
and my brother two years older than I were suprised to say the least when
they drove home a spanking new 66 Coronet 440 2 door hardtop. It was an
ugly Citreon Gold color with white interior, but all that was ignored
when we spotted the 383 Four barrel plaque on the front fender.

That car got a workout for the next couple of years; we borrowed it
everytime we could to go to the library or whatever excuse we could
find, and many a SS396 or GTO were amazed at how Mommas Dodge left them
in the dust on the quarter mile someone had marked out on the east side of
town. I got the Mopar bug from that car.

Fast forward to 1972 - The Coronet is now mine; mom having opted for
something a little easier on gas. With a slightly modified 383, a manual
shift valve body and a SureGrip rear, my wife is driving the car every day and
tearing up the Palmdale dragstrip on the weekends. Consistant 14 second
flat runs wasnt too bad in those days, especially at the 2500 foot
elevation of the Southern California high desert.

An aquaintance of mine was into Hemi cars. Hard to believe now, but used
Hemi cars were not that hard or expensive at that time. Many were bought
by people with more money than sense, and after rather brutal break-in
periods resulting in blown head gaskets, they passed into the hands of
others, to be stripped of the Hemi engines and Dana rear ends and passed
on down to low - bucks car nuts such as myself. So it was that I ended
up with a 67 Sport Satellite convertible - A factory Hemi car with the
original engine and 4 speed trans as well as the Hemi k member and Dana
rear end having been removed. The pristine black factory interior fit
perfectly into the Coronet, and I had no use for the rest of the car. A
friend of a friend was racing a 67 Belvedere stock car at Saugus Speedway
and needed the quarter panels, front fenders and hood, so I traded him the
hulk for a 64 Dodge 330 2 door post that just happened to be a factory
lightweight car. I helped him cut the quarter panels off the Satellite
and haul the rest of it to the junk yard.

Most of the original body parts on the 64 lightweight car had been removed
by a previous owner and replaced with stock items, but the aluminum front
fenders remained. The plan was to build a bracket car out of it and retire
the Coronet to everyday street use.

Like many plans, the 330 never got out of the starting blocks. It sat in
the garage for a few months, and the wife got tired of driving the 66
Coronet with no power steering and no air conditioning, and eventually
both the Coronet and the 330 were sold or traded or whatever in favor of a
new 73 Charger.

I honestly cant remember what happened to the 330 - I think I traded it
to someone but cant remember the details.

So, for a short time in the early 1970s, I had a Sport Satellite
convertible Hemi car (one of something like 7 built), and a 64 factory
lightweight. If I had just hung on to them.......
BrentDLots

I stumbled across your site tonight and boy did it bring back memories. Im still a Mopar Guy. Can be seen all over town wearing a new Hemi flame hat.

My favorite memory of a '62 to '65 Mopar (I had five over the years) was my black 1962 Dodge Polara. My dad owned an auto parts shop on Van Nuys Blvd and the next block over was this Mopar guy. He raced at Bonneville. Norm Thatcher was his name. I used to spend hours hanging around the shop dreaming. When I got my 1962 Polara it had a 361 four barrel with torqueflite. Push buttons of course. I decided to build a street tribute to Norn Thatcher. So in goes an Isky 505 roller cam with 320 duration. Fender well exit Hedman headers. A dual four barrel offy manifold with carter carbs. This car could fly, after you got over 3500 RPM that is. Cam was way too big for stock stall converter. I did nuetral drop the car a couple of times. With a 2:76 SureGrip rear end it still lit up the tires for over 300 feet. My buddy measured it, since I did it in front of his house. Boy was his mom mad. So one night Im late for a date and Im driving from Thousand Oaks to Sunland. About 60 miles. Dont know what possesed me but I decided to open her up. I was rewarded for my decision. A ticket for doing 135 MPH in a 65 MPH zone, pulling away from patrol car rapidly. I would have got away but caught up to traffic and just pulled over. The cop was so impressed with the car, he kept me talking about it for thirty minutes. His mistake was not arresting me. As I left I decided to give him a thrill. I saw some dirt on the side of the road. Drove into it and punched it. Smoked the hides through first gear and half of second. He didnt come after me, so I guess he WAS impressed. I got traffic school. Met Gene Windfields son there, the famous custom car builder. Things always came out that way for me. So many memories. So many Mopars. It's been a sweet ride for sure. Thanks for giving me a place to remember the good old days.
-Hemi S.

My pop was a Ford man. In 1964 it was time to buy his first new car. He really surprised mom! A 1964 Plymouth Fury, 383, 4 speed, turquoise with white painted top. I was only 7 years old. Over the years all of dads friends cars were outrun by that---- mayflower,to quote them. When it came time to learn to drive dad could tell I was itchin to gas it, and I nearly lost it, 13 and scared. Dad bought a farm and traded it for a truck just before I could legally drive, but the seed was planted. My 1st car was a 66 Plymouth Satellite, 383, 4 speed. Love that car! After nearly 30 years and 23 Mopars later I still have the '66, but she is very rusty and parked behind my shop. After searching for a long time a finally found a 1964 Plymouth Fury to build as near to dads as possible. All my children are Mopar gearheads and I couldnt imagine growing up without dads 1964 Plymouth Fury.
John H.

My 1963 Golden Commando Fantasy Come True
When I was 13 years old, I came from poor parents in Brooklyn, New York,
and our first car was a 1955 Plymouth Belvedere in two tone peach and
black. It was a pretty car, although it had a small 6 cylinder
engine...but from that point on I became partial to Plymouths and in 1956
when Chrysler introduced the new Fury model, with 240 whopping
horsepower, my childhood auto fantasies centered were inspired and the
Fury became the car of my childhood dreams.

My love and admiration for these cars continued through my teenage years
during the middle 1950s. In 1960, I got my license and was still driving
the beat-up 55 Belvedere. By 1963, the old Plymouth was in bad shape
and needed lots of repairs but it was all we could afford and I used
to look longingly at all the new models that were being introduced
and I would dream about Furys -- sometimes to the detriment of even
thinking about the opposite sex.

To this day, I dont know how he did it, but my dad said he had found the means to buy us
a new car and was probably going to look at a Plymouth. I was naturally
excited but I had no idea what my dad was really planning. He and my mom
went shopping a few times and one night they told me they had bought a
nice new 1963 Belvedere. I was somewhat happy but the thought of a plain
family style car didnt get me that excited. In those days, you had to
order cars and wait a few weeks for them to arrive at the dealership.

One day after I got home from my college classes, my dad said that the car had
arrived and asked if I would I like to go with him to pick it up. So we
both got into the old Plymouth and drove over to the dealer. Up to this
point, I was still not excited ....but then it happened. The salesman said
to my dad and I, wait here while we bring the car around.

Well, we stood there and all of a sudden, the salesman pulls up slowly in a
gleaming baby blue, 1963 Sport Fury and the first thing I noticed was the
small metallic decal on the fender that read Golden Commando Power.
Needless to say, my heart started pounding and I thought I was in a dream.

Then dad said to me, do you want to drive it home?, and I literally broke
out in tears of happiness. The car was sitting and idling and anyone who
knew anything about motors knew that something monstrous was beneath the
hood. In those days, we used the term Hairy to describe a hot engine and
this baby was hairier than I had ever dreamed!

I got into the Plymouth and even though I only feathered the gas pedal,
the 330 horses, the dual exhausts and the 4 barrel carb immediately peeled out.
Even when that baby was idling, you felt she just wanted to go. It was like a wild stallion
that was bred to race and just wanted to gallop away as soon as you
touched her.

I have many more stories about my adventures with that Sport Fury
but that long ago night in 1963 ranks among the 10 happiest moments in my
life and I wanted to share it with all of you....
Michael B.

While in college back in 1969 I traded my 1960 Chrysler Saratoga 2dr HT in
on a 1963 Plymouth Sport Fury. It was white w/red interior. A 361 c.i. eng.
w/single 2 barrel carburetor and a factory Hurst 4 speed. After driving it for
several months I got a deal on a 1965 Dodge 383 eng. out of a dirt track car.
This thing had a cam in it that rocked the world. I had it put into the Fury
by a friend over a weekend. It was starving for fuel because I had to put
the 2 barrel back in it until I could afford the new manifold and 4 barrel
it needed to run properly. I was so excited about this car that I ran the
snot out of it. Unfortunately, I had to get rid of the Fury and replaced it
with a 1965 Dodge Custom 880 and a wife.

Today I am still searching for a 1963 Sport Fury to fulfill my dream. I saw
one at the Barrett-Jackson auction in Florida. It sold for $54,000 a far cry
from the $900 I paid for mine in 1969.
Ed Bandics

I spent most of the summer of 1966 traveling with my Dad, Mom, Brother and
Sister halfway across the United States from Houston to Washinton DC in an
unairconditioned 1965 red Dodge Dart 2 DR Sedan with a 225 cid slant six and
tourqueflite tranny. We carried a big tent in the trunk (along with all the
camping accessories) and spent each night camped out at some park or wide
place in the road all along the way. My Dad's objective was to visit every
Civil War battleground between here and there and I guess we did. We never
spent a single night in a motel. My brother and I got to where we could put
up that tent in about 3 minutes which was helpful as it usually was raining
about the time we'd pull in someplace.

We ended up in Washington DC and camped out somewhere near Vienna, Va. for a
week where we met the Howard Johnson family from Sioux Falls, SD with their
two lovely teenage daughters and his 1964 Dodge Coronet with the 361 V8 that
he would let us use in the evenings to cruise the local scene. My parents
still exchange Christmas cards with his family to this date.

As by that time I had my driver's license it was my pleasure to handle most
of the trips driving duties. I can tell you that little Dart had to huff
and puff a bit to get up and down the Appalachians, loaded down as it was
with the five of us and all the camping gear. But we made it. I was glad to
get home and head off to college. When I close my eyes I can still smell the
odor we generated all cooped up in that Dart for six weeks sweating like the
bunch of Okies we were.

We also had a white 1965 Playmouth Sport Fury Convertible 383 4bbl. But my
Dad insisted on taking the Dart because of the good gas mileage. (And also
because I had put twin glass packs on it and my mother complained about the
noise.)